Entitled
by Crittab
Summary: Jeff had always been one to make concessions when he wanted something he knew he shouldn't have. M/Complete


**Disclaimer:_ I don't own Community, yo._**

**Entitled**

Jeff had always been one to make concessions when he wanted something he knew he shouldn't have.

For example, if he wanted a piece of cake, he would have a finger dip of icing and follow it up with a run. If he wanted a day off from Greendale, he would take a long nap in his car instead of going to his least important class. He felt entitled to these small luxuries, even though he was still, technically, denying himself.

So Jeff felt entitled to this, as he reached into his boxers and took hold of his rock hard shaft, pumping it while listening to her breaths become moans as she pleasured herself on the other end of the line. He'd earned this by showing restraint every single time he'd wanted to jump her bones and _show her_ how she made him feel.

He deserved this.

Or so he told himself.

It started shortly after the end of their second year. Paintball 2.0 had come and gone, and with it, the images of Annie in short bloomers and a cleavage enhancing corset had been burned into his memory.

At first, he'd just begun pleasuring himself to the mental image of her running toward him, breasts bouncing in the most sinful way. He'd been alright with that—it was safe, and really, it was healthy; what straight, red-blooded American male wouldn't jerk off to that?

But after a few days, the images only retained a fraction of their potency, and Jeff felt himself once again wanting more.

So he called her.

He wasn't intending to do anything illicit with his barely-legal friend over the phone, he just wanted to hear her voice. Unfortunately, he hadn't realized until then just how sexy her voice really was. The first time she answered the phone, he felt his cock twitch, and he knew he was a goner. He didn't know how he would convince her to participate, but his little friend told him he had to, so he decided to try it out.

He started by flirting, just a little; just enough to grease the wheels and see if she would reciprocate. He was unsurprised when she did, albeit a little awkwardly.

Then he complimented her; not on anything particularly sexy, but just on something that he knew she'd be flattered that he thought of. Then he complimented her on something sexy—namely, her paintball outfit—to which she'd responded with just the right amount of shy acknowledgement.

Then he asked her if she still had the outfit. She did, though it had been ruined by the paintball war, and was probably permanently orange. Jeff said he didn't mind, as long as it still made her look the way it did during the game. She said it did. Jeff approved.

Then, emboldened, she asked what he liked about the outfit specifically. He told her, and enjoyed the way her breathing became more audible over the phone. He tried not to touch himself before the activity had been agreed upon.

It didn't take much longer for that to happen, too.

That had been four months ago, and Jeff could hardly believe that it was still happening, like clockwork, every Saturday night.

It was around 8:30 when his phone rang. He flicked it on and greeted her as he made his way into his bedroom and pulled his bottle of lube out of his bedside table.

"Hey," her voice was slightly deeper than usual, softer and more breathy.

"Hey back." He settled back onto his bed, getting comfortable. "How's it going?"

"Good, good." She sounded a little nervous. "You?"

"I'm good too."

"Good."

"What are you wearing?" The first time he'd asked it, he thought he sounded incredibly cheesy, but now it was his common opening line.

"Just a t-shirt and panties. It's too small, though—the shirt." Jeff licked his lips, picturing the scene in his mind.

"How small is it?" he asked.

"Really small," she replied. "It doesn't quite cover my stomach—but it makes my boobs look really big." Jeff chuckled.

"Your boobs always look big." He smiled at the sound of her giggle—it had a musical quality that made his stomach do flip-flops.

"It's a curse."

"Yea, so is my giant dick." He imagined her reaction: rolling her eyes while blushing.

"Jeff," she scolded.

"What? They always say honesty's the best policy."

"Yea, well, I can't personally corroborate your story." Jeff swallowed hard. Every once in a while he forgot that their 'relationship' wasn't really real.

"You'll just have to take my word for it, I guess."

"Fine," she sighed dramatically. "So what's your giant dick up to right now?" He grinned.

"It's glad to hear from you."

"It is?"

"It always is."

"Are you?" He frowned slightly. She always did this. Why did she always have to do this?

"Uh, yea. Of course I am."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I am. Why? Aren't you?"

"Should I be?"

"Yea."

"Why?"

"Because... geez, Annie. I don't know. What do you want me to tell you?" He heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Nothing, never mind. Let's just... let's get back to it, okay?" What surprised him most wasn't that she was willing to let it go, but rather that he wanted to talk about it.

He suppressed that particular desire.

"Yes, lets," he said, trying to refocus on his arousal.

"What are you thinking about?" Annie asked. He closed his eyes tightly and focused, pulling up one of the many versions of Annie that he could get off on.

"You," he said softly. "And that damn pen." She laughed, relieving much of the tension.

"What about the pen?"

"You, frantically ripping off your clothes... in front of Pierce, no less."

"Okay, what did I tell you about bringing up Pierce when we're doing this?" she chastised. He hadn't even notice he'd done it.

"Sorry. In front of... me. You're pretty sexy when you're pissed." He reached down and stroked his bulge through his jeans.

"Yea well, you seemed to be in a big hurry to pull your clothes off too. Is that something you commonly do in front of a crowd?"

"Depends on the motivation, I guess. When there's a sexy brunette involved, absolutely."

"What did you want to do to me?" He flicked open the button on his jeans and reached inside, palming himself through his boxer-briefs.

"God, Annie. I wanted to bend you over the desk and fuck you, hard."

"In front of everybody?" her breathing picked up slightly.

"I don't care—could have been everybody, could have been just us. I just wanted to be inside of you." His hips moved of their own volition. "What are you doing right now?"

"Mmm... I'm touching my breasts. My nipples are so hard—I can see them through my top."

"Does it feel good?"

"Oh god, yes," she moaned. "I want to touch my clit. Are you touching yourself?" Jeff pushed down his boxers and jeans to his knees and grabbed hold of his erection, stroking it from base to tip and back again.

"Oh yea. It feels so good." She moaned into the phone. "Touch yourself, Annie."

"I'm stroking myself through my panties—they're already wet." Jeff tightened his grip on himself.

"Take off your panties," he commanded. He heard some shuffling over the phone while she did as he asked.

"Now what should I do, Jeff?" He could picture her in his minds-eye, laying on her bed with her legs spread, her fingers dipping in and out of her wet, tight hole.

"Put your fingers in. Tell me how it feels." He reached down and rubbed his testicles.

"Oh god, it's good Jeff. I'm so wet. So tight. My fingers feel so good inside of me—what do you want to do to me?"

"Uhng... I... god, Annie. I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so hard."

"How do you want me, Jeff? Tell me everything you want me to do."

"I want to bend you over the table in the study room—fuck it, any table, any room. I want to take you from behind."

"What do you want to touch?"

"Everything. I want to rub your clit, palm your breasts. I want to feel your heat around me while I pump in and out of you." He began to perspire as his pace on himself increased.

"Oh, god, Jeff. I want you," she moaned, circling her clit with the fingers of one hand while the other dipped in and out of her. "I want you so bad."

"Fuck, Annie. I want you too. I want to come with you." He was so close, he could barely formulate a coherent thought. Her moans became louder and he knew she was close too.

"What if we stopped?"

The question was so out of the blue that he didn't really know where to go with it.

"What do you mean?" he couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice.

"We should stop," she said. "You should come over and finish the job properly."

Jeff didn't really know what to say, or do. He pulled his hand, begrudgingly, away from his very, very hard cock and tried to focus on what she was saying.

"Annie... I don't think that's a good idea." He could practically _hear_ her eyes rolling.

"Why not, Jeff? Give me one good reason why, after four months of phone sex, we can't just do the real thing." He had no real argument for that, though he felt he had to try.

"It's not the same thing," he said, lamely.

"Fine." That was not the response he expected.

"...Fine?"

"Fine, Jeff. Just fine." He was as confused as he was painfully horny.

"Fine... what? 'Fine, we'll finish up?' Or 'fine, don't ever call me again." She let out an exasperated sigh.

"You go ahead and finish up, Jeff. You don't need my help." When the line went dead, Jeff was still completely at a loss for what had just happened. He clicked his phone off and looked down at his erection—though it had diminished, it was far from gone. Nonetheless, he pulled his underwear and pants back up while he thought about how to handle this situation.

Annie hadn't finished. She felt like an idiot after the way she'd ended her conversation with Jeff, and really just felt like the mood had been ruined. Plus, she'd ruined her own orgasm, which is just a huge no-no when you're so damn close.

She had relegated herself to her ugliest pair of pyjamas after stripping off the uncomfortably tight t-shirt she'd been wearing, and turned on the TV to a Hallmark movie in hopes of making herself feel better. She jumped about four feet off the couch when someone knocked on her door.

Stalking nervously toward the door, she peeked through the peephole before opening it.

"Fine," Jeff said when she'd finally undone the multitudes of locks. She felt her stomach do a flip.

"Fine?" she asked.

"Fine." Jeff pushed inside, slamming the door behind him and then her against it. She barely had time to register the action before he covered her mouth with his, invading it with his tongue in a hard, needing kiss. She reciprocated as soon as she got her bearings, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush to his body so she could feel the way he needed her.

Her, not just her voice.

"Fuck, Annie," he growled, pulling away from her mouth and moving to her neck. "Your timing sucks."

"I know," she moaned. "Sorry."

The two fought against the door, pulling and kneading at each other. They quickly deposited his coat and shoes, somehow without losing contact for a second. He pushed her further up against the door, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, finally feeling his hardness against her in the way they'd talked about for so long. She barely noticed when he pulled them away from the door and headed for her dining table, depositing her on top of it.

"You know I have a bed," she said, while busying herself with the buttons of his shirt. He pulled her top over her head and planted his lips on her neck.

"Tonight's theme is fucking you on a table," he explained, undoing her bra with ease. She moaned as his hands came in contact with her naked breast, feeling her the way she'd always wanted him to.

Soon after, the rest of their clothes had gone the way of the first few articles. Annie was almost buzzing with anticipation as her panties were dragged away from her body, and replaced with Jeff's mouth.

"You don't have to..."

"Just lay back and enjoy it," Jeff said, pushing her lightly backward so she was laying on the tabled. He pulled her butt to the edge and kneeled down, taking in the full view of her gorgeous, pale skinned figure. Without fanfare, he moved forward and tasted her for the first time. His cock twitched as she moaned, and he couldn't help his own sounds of appreciation as he slipped two fingers into her, finally experiencing the tight warmth he'd been fantasizing about.

"Fuck, Annie. You're so tight." Annie moaned, feeling almost as close as she had been when they'd hung up earlier.

"Oh Jeff. God. I want you inside of me. Please." Never one to disappoint, Jeff licked at her clit once more before getting up and seeking out his wallet for a condom. When he found it, he turned back to Annie and was surprised to find that she'd gotten up from the table and now had her back to him. She turned her head to face him, smiling shyly.

"I believe the theme of tonight was you bending me over a table and having your way with me."

It didn't take Jeff a minute to put on the condom and sidle up flush behind her. His hands explored her body in earnest as she pressed her backside against him, anxious to begin.

"We don't have to do it this way," he said, though he didn't sound convincing. "We can go to the bed if you want it to be more... you know... romantic." Annie pushed herself against him again and leaned over the table, spreading her legs. Jeff fought his urge to surge into her.

"Jeff, I don't want romance—I want you inside of me. Now."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Jeff placed himself at her entrance, and in one swift motion, entered her completely. He stalled once he was inside, both for her to get comfortable, and to stop himself from coming right away. It was only when Annie starting moving against him that he began to pull out and plunge back in.

Together, they moved back and forth, slowly at first, but speeding up rapidly. Jeff leaned further over her and wrapped both arms around her middle as he bucked into her harder, needing to feel her body flush with his. She lifted one leg so it rest on the table, opening herself for him, needing to feel more.

"Fuck, Annie," Jeff grunted. He pulled out and turned her back around, setting her back on the table as she had been. He entered her quickly again and kissed her hard. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, holding him as close as she could as her orgasm began to build.

"Jeff. Oh god, Jeff, yes," she cried. Jeff could feel her beginning to pulse around him, and pulled back slightly so he could watch her face as she came. She writhed beneath him, bucking against him and tightening around him in a way he could never have imagined over the phone. He barely registered that his orgasm was building when it overtook him. He pounded into her hard as he came, and collapsed over her when he was spent, completely exhausted, but exhilarated by the experience.

Together, slumped over the table, they came down from their mutual highs, feeling totally satisfied—as though four months of foreplay had finally led to something.

"Now we can go to bed," Annie said, breathlessly. Jeff was still slumped over her.

"I don't think I can move," he mumbled into her neck. Annie giggled and pushed him up, feeling weirdly empty when he finally slipped out of her. Without another word, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to her bed. He deposited the condom in her trash can before sliding in behind her, pulling the covers over both of them. He threw an arm over her and pulled her tight to him. He wasn't usually one for spooning, but for some reason this seemed like the right moment.

And after four months of denying himself, and her, he felt they were entitled to it.

**End**

**A/N: I love reviews like Troy loves LaVar Burton. A lot.**


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